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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28250100">the element of surprise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanyon/pseuds/lanyon'>lanyon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cut &amp; Run - Madeleine Urban &amp; Abigail Roux</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:47:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,312</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28250100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanyon/pseuds/lanyon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler wakes up and his husband is nowhere to be found.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zane Garrett/Ty Grady</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Yuletide 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the element of surprise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/gifts">dementorsatemysoup</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ty rolled over and face planted on Zane’s pillow. He frowned. Without lifting his head to look, he felt around with his hand. Their bed was big, but so was his husband. There was no way that he could be hiding. With a groan, Ty opened one eye. Zane was definitely not there. </p>
<p>It was the day before Christmas Eve, and Zane was not there.</p>
<p>Ty wasn’t going to sulk because he was a grown-ass man and it wasn’t as though he and Zane couldn’t operate independently of each other. Only last month, Zane had gone down to his family’s ranch in Texas for a long weekend, and Ty regularly traveled to meet the rest of Sidewinder, when they weren’t crashing in Baltimore, finding their way back to each other. </p>
<p>Ty hummed, and then hauled himself out of bed. The bathroom tiles were wet, so Zane must have showered pretty recently. The water was cold, which confirmed it.</p>
<p>“Fucking Lonestar,” muttered Ty. Sure, he’d endured some of the harshest conditions possible, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like a hot shower in the morning. He swore his way through his shower and pulled on jeans and a t-shirt that said <i>O Mg: The Element of Surprise</i> and tripped his way downstairs. </p>
<p>The lights on the tree were turned off, because Zane had strict ideas about fire hazards which, well. He’d married Ty who was the biggest fire hazard of all. There were a few presents under the tree, carefully wrapped, and a big cardboard box that had arrived from West Virginia, full of more gifts and a little guilt from Mara Grady, who was definitely pissed that her son and son-in-law weren’t joining them for Christmas this year but was too polite to kick up too much of a fuss. </p>
<p>Maybe it was too much to ask, but Ty honestly just wanted a quiet Christmas with his husband. </p>
<p>He scowled when he saw that there was no note on the kitchen counter, or pinned to the door by a charming throwing knife. Zane was not supposed to be this good at sneaking out of the house, despite his career as a kind of covert operative.</p>
<p>At least Zane had left coffee for him. Ty supposed that he could text him but that felt a little like admitting defeat. He glanced at the clock and swallowed down his last mouthful of coffee. Technically, as the store owners, they could open whenever they wanted but Ty still felt slightly guilty whenever he was a little late, and there was a legitimate customer waiting outside.</p>
<p>Often, of course, the person waiting was a baby CIA agent, waiting to be babysat, which usually meant that Zane ushered them into the backroom, and made them coffee, and talked them down while Ty loitered near the orchids. For some reason, the baby agents had taken to Zane, which puzzled both of them. </p>
<p>Ty could see someone was actually waiting outside the bookstore this morning, so he picked up his pace. He’d half-hoped that Zane had gone on ahead but it wasn’t a great surprise to see the store was closed, and no sign of his husband. Ty huffed with annoyance as he struggled with the key and then darted to the alarm panel to key in the code. He’d wanted to use Zane’s birthday but Zane looked at him like he was an idiot and not a former FBI agent, retired Marine and current thorn in many sides. </p>
<p>Ty’s argument was that if anyone wanted to target a pair of CIA agents, an alarm code wasn’t going to slow them down any. Zane had rolled his eyes and shaken his head fondly but hadn’t changed his mind. </p>
<p>“Secondhand books upstairs,” he said to the potential customer. “I’ll be -- yeah.” He waggled his fingers to convey that he’d be around, and he went through to the backroom to coo over his orchids and make more coffee. He absolutely wasn’t going to stew about the absence of his husband.</p>
<p>Once the coffee maker was done, Ty poured himself a mug and sat behind the counter, with his feet up, next to the cash register. He really hadn’t gotten the hang of this change of pace. He’d been promised he could kill things but there had been no major disasters, or even any minor ones. </p>
<p>“You’ll scare away the customers.”</p>
<p>“Ethel,” said Ty. “We don’t have any customers. You’re our only customer and I don’t think I’ve ever scared you off.” <i>Not for want of trying</i>, he didn’t ask. He was pretty sure that Ethel was some kind of agent too. Maybe retired MI5. She definitely gave off some Helen Mirren vibes. </p>
<p>“Don’t you think it’s strange that on the day before Christmas Eve, you have no customers?”</p>
<p>Ty looked around, eyes wide with faux-shock. “Did you scare them all off again, Ethel?” </p>
<p>She rolled her eyes. “Doris thinks that you and your handsome husband are Mafia, and this is some kind of front.”</p>
<p>“Eh,” said Ty. “That sounds like far too much work. Did Doris never consider that we’re just really bad at selling books?” </p>
<p>“Hmph,” said Ethel. “I won’t argue with that. Have a good Christmas, Tyler.”</p>
<p>“I will!” called out Ty. “Be good, Ethel, or Santa won’t come.” </p>
<p>The bell rang as Ethel left and Ty shifted to rest his chin on the table. He groaned. There were no customers, no baby agents and no Zane. Ty had been hoping to close early today, maybe go for a walk on the waterfront and grab an early dinner but none of that sound remotely appealing on his own. Ugh. He hoped that Zane hadn’t been called away for an actual mission. They were both definitely too old for fieldwork, but it wouldn’t be the first time. </p>
<p>Ty stared morosely at the front door of the store and only jumped a little when the phone rang. It was an old-fashioned one, with a rotary dial, and no possibility of leaving a voice message. He picked up the phone. “Brick and Mortar Books, have you tried Amazon?”</p>
<p>“So that’s why we don’t have any customers.”</p>
<p>“Zane!” Ty sat up straight. “Where are you?”</p>
<p>“Now, I don’t want you to worry,” started Zane, which was a perfect way to get Ty to worry. “But how attached were you to our Christmas tree?”</p>
<p>“What the fuck?”</p>
<p>“Maybe you should lock up and come home.” </p>
<p>Ty didn’t even check upstairs for lurking customers or baby agents. He shot out of the store and locked up. Zane didn’t sound hurt but usually damage in the rowhouse was the direct result of some kind of physical altercation. It couldn’t be the Vega cartel, because they were all but dead and buried, and he didn’t think Dick had any evil twins waiting to exact vengeance on Ty (partly because he’s pretty sure Dick was the evil twin) but Ty had never run home so fast in his life. </p>
<p>When he threw the door open, Zane immediately shouted. “Shut the door, for fuck’s sake!”</p>
<p>Ty closed the door and advanced slowly, and carefully, and drew his gun. </p>
<p>“What’s the situation?” he asked, softly, eyeing the fallen Christmas tree. .</p>
<p>“Jesus, Ty, put the gun away, you’ll scare them.”</p>
<p>“Scare … them?” Ty lowered his gun and then he heard it. The tiniest meow. </p>
<p>He broke into the widest smile as he watched a small tabby kitten poke its head out of the Christmas tree, followed by an even smaller black kitten. </p>
<p>“Happy Christmas, Meow Mix,” said Zane, looking a little helpless. “They’re, uh, a boy and a girl, so have fun naming them.”</p>
<p>Ty barely spared him a glance as he advanced on his new pets. </p>
<p>“Best husband ever,” he breathed. </p>
<p>Now, he figured, he was ready for their new life to start; him, and Zane, and Bonnie and Clyde.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Yuletide! I hope you enjoyed this! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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